


Sleepwalking

by corvidae9



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, but not today!, devious hermione, schoolgirl fantasies taken too far, this can only end in tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-21
Updated: 2005-01-21
Packaged: 2018-10-17 15:36:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10597020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvidae9/pseuds/corvidae9
Summary: No one believes a sleepwalker is actually asleep. (Hermione/Sirius).





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Cross-gen, underage sex. Not that I think it's OK it in real life, and I'm not generally a fan of this kind of fic, but you'd better believe this was my fantasy when **I** was fifteen. It's just that Hermione is smart enough to make it happen.
> 
> Written for rubykate for the 2004 dearsanta exchange. Thank you so much to my lovely and talented betas merrycontrary and bksncleverness, who are always willing to shepherd my crazy.

Hermione awoke with a violent, cat-like motion, landing somehow sitting, hands clamped onto the edges of the mattress. It was disorienting to wake in an open bed missing the heavy red and gold drapery, even if she'd likely have pulled them back in this heat. Mopping at her forehead and the back of her neck with the sleeve of her nightgown pulled down over her clammy hand, Hermione tried to calm her breathing. 

Ever since... ever since the end of third year... she'd dreamed him. It was stupid, and cliche; the crushing weight of want and need warring with her extraordinary mind now flooded with hormones. Hermione told herself that she was above petty romance novel fantasies; that she'd left them behind with Lockhart's lies and Viktor's invitations; but it was useless to deny. Ron and Harry at least had learned that lesson readily-- and she was usually the quickest on the uptake. 

When she was twelve, her fantasies consisted of Lockhart and his charming grin; kissing her cheek and whisking her away to a lovely home in the country filled with books and cats and sunshine. 

Her dreams now consisted of a dangerous man; dark eyes flashing as he loosed a war whoop into a half-clouded sky; too-thin arms wrapped around her as she struggled not to scream in terror. Eyes that had cut deep as they complimented her mind, her skills; declared themselves in her debt even as they shone with the promise of freedom. Hands, calloused and scarred; she had seen them in her mind's eye sliding under her school jumper as she squeaked with mock indignity, pretending to shove them away; _Stop, Mr. Black! You're old enough to be my father!_ His hands pushing her pleated skirt up slowly as she chewed her lip and watched their progress through lowered lashes, gasping---

The delicate water pitcher slipped from her hands and rolled onto the plush carpet as she realized just where exactly she was, focusing on the dark paneling and antique furniture. 12 Grimmauld. **His** house. Putting him roughly within a two hundred yard radius of the blood pounding at her temples. Where he would be for the next month or so before the start of fall term.

Which one could imagine, would explain the especially vivid dream that had woken her.

Hermione slipped lightly onto the ground to retrieve the pitcher, and perhaps manage a drying charm. Instead, the cool air on her skin jarred her senses, reminded her of shivering distantly in a dream, and she slumped down onto the dark rug. Wishing desparately for something; anything that could help her ease the ache; Not in fact a some _thing_ , but some _one_. Burying her face against her arms in what she knew was an overdramatic gesture before it even began, she whispered her hopeless desire to the musty carpet.

"Sirius."

###

At breakfast Hermione watched as Ron and Harry wordlessly passed the dishes and condiments; as Fred, George and Ginny warred good-naturedly over the marmalade; as Mrs. Weasley wielded her wooden spoon with graceful force, alternately menacing a twin or using it to serve porridge. She watched as Professor Lupin stumbled into the room, trying to not to be obvious in showcasing the extent of the recent full moon's effects. Mrs. Weasley, ushering him to a seat and serving tea, eyes crinkled with worry and... was it a hint of disapproval? 

Interesting. But she left it alone. She continued to wait and watch.

Hermione swallowed her toast hard as Professor Lupin spoke quietly. "So, Hermione, were you able to come to any new conclusions after sleeping on the problem?" 

Face flushed, she took a large gulp of her tea, trying to focus on defusing the panic and horror--how he knew, what he knew, why he would bring it up here-- and suddenly relaxed, hoping he hadn't noticed her completely inappropriate moment of psychosis. Willing her voice even and trying for a hint of her trademark know-it-all tone, she managed a smug grin.

"Of course, Professor. The answer to the riddle is forty-two. It took forty-two goblins."

"Well-reasoned! I suppose I'll have to try harder to stump you, then."

A deeper, more roughly textured voice emerging from the back stairs cut Hermione's response short. 

"Keep trying Remus. We've all got _some_ weakness."

For the second time in as many minutes, Hermione felt the color rise in her face. She wanted to be witty, charming; to surpass her years and converse as an adult, knowing herself to be capable of it, but it all escaped her completely as Sirius slipped in to the room, murmuring appreciation for Mrs. Weasley's cooking as he helped himself to bread and porridge.

Forcing herself not to stare, she instead glared at Ron and Harry studiously looking miserable before standing and declaring herself ready for homework. As Hermione cleared her dishes, she caught Ginny watching her with a small smirk, serving only to increase Hermione's eagerness to leave the room.

###

Not ten minutes after having collapsed onto her bed, Ginny stormed into their shared room resembling nothing more than a crazed Niffler. Quickly crossing the room, she came to a stop in front of Hermione's bed, arms crossed and smirking.

"That's it. All this sighing and glaring and not sleeping and crumpling in a mess on the rug in the wee hours is really getting annoying, especially coming from Little Miss Brightest Witch of Our Age. So spill it already. Which of the oblivious boys should be thumped? Either of them will do, but please say it's my brother?"

Hermione groaned, horrified that she'd been obvious in her adolescence and in terror of Ginny making her confess anything. 

Ginny spun and sat hard on the bed. "Hermione, listen to me. Boys are stupid. You and I know this. Of course you know this--you know everything. Why then are you laying about feeling sorry for yourself?! Do what you do best! Think hard. Form a plan and trap him soundly." 

An eye appeared from behind the mass of wild curls hiding Hermione's face and elbows, studying Ginny as if for the first time.

Ginny took Hermione's lack of response as belligerence, as only Hermione possessed the ability to express belligerence with utter silence. In actuality, Hermione's eyes had snapped open, turning over Ginny's ludicrous advice, already thinking out ways of accomplishing such a thing.

Sighing, Ginny gave Hermione's shoulder a shove and continued, "Come on, which of those prats could stand a chance against your keen and penetrating intellect? Bloody hell, you could have both of them, if you really wanted, I'd wager." At this, Ginny went silent, staring into space as if contemplating what she'd just suggested.

Too preoccupied to be disturbed by that, if in fact there was anything to be disturbed about, Hermione rolled over to face Ginny. "Gin, you're absolutely right. This is no way to behave. I..." She let the sentence trail off, unwilling to say more for fear of giving too much away. "Plotting. Right." 

Ginny studied Hermione's patented look of devious concentration for a moment longer, afraid to admit to herself that she had just created a monster. "Hermione? Please tell me that I'm not responsible for the insane scheme you're cooking up? Or, if I am, that you'll at least let me help?

Hermione sat up slowly, smirking at Ginny. "Oh. You may not be responsible, but I owe you quite a bit of thanks for reminding me of what I am capable." 

Pursing her lips, Ginny pondered the multiple ways she could conceivably take that statement and decided not to ask for clarification. Plausible deniability, and all that. She did have one remaining question.

"Would you at least tell me which one you're planning to work on?"

With a grin, Hermione answered quickly, "Not a chance, but if it works out you'll be the first to know."

Ginny found that statement intriguing; the fact that Hermione actually thought she could bend either her idiot brother or The Boy Who Was Oblivious to her will in the three weeks left before the beginning of the fall term. Anytime after that, Ginny would assuredly be the last to know, given the nature of their interaction at school... or lack thereof. Raising an eyebrow but saying nothing more, she gave Hermione a crooked smile and clapped her on the arm. "Good luck--you'll need it. _Especially_ if this works."

###

At exactly 2:34 AM, Hermione lay awake listening for her cue. When she finally heard what sounded like the ticking of a loud and drooly clock approach her door and recede in the direction of the stairs, she counted to twenty slowly before slipping out of bed, not bothering to find her dressing gown.

Padding on bare feet to the kitchen, she began going through the motions of making tea, rubbing at her eyes, though she was not in the least sleepy. As she reached up into the cupboard to retrieve a teacup, she saw the door open silently in her peripheral vision, allowing herself a small smile. Hermione turned to face the table and gave a little shriek, noisily dropping the teacup not two feet from the large black dog now standing in the kitchen with her.

"Mr. Black!" she exclaimed, stooping low to pick up the bits of broken cup. "You startled me!"

Looking up again, she found herself face to face with Sirius, seemingly closer than Padfoot had been. "Hermione, I'm sorry--" he began as he helped to retrieve broken bits of pottery near him. "I didn't mean to startle you." Expression serious and still smacking of concern, Sirius caught her eye and held it. "And what, exactly are you doing up at this time of the night?"

Hermione's voice caught slightly on the massive knot of anxiety lodged in her chest as she straightened up with a handful of shards from the cup. "Sleepwalking?"

Sirius grinned fit to make Hermione's insides melt away. "Try again."

"Alright. I couldn't sleep. It happens a lot. Figured that I might as well fetch tea and do something productive. You?" 

Taking the pieces of teacup from Hermione, Sirius straightened and set them on the counter. "That happens to me a lot, too. Too bloody often as a matter of fact." Pulling his wand, he murmured a _Reparo_ , obviously pleased with himself as the bits of cup flew together again. "Care to make enough for two? Or shall I?"

Smiling shyly, Hermione nodded quickly. "No! Yes! I mean, I'll do it. It's fine. Sit?"

His throaty chuckle filled the empty kitchen and sent shivers down Hermione's spine as he pulled a chair and straddled it to face the stove. "I never did learn obedient dog tricks, but I can make an exception this once."

Eyes wide, Hermione turned quickly back to the cupboard to retrieve another teacup, feeling the weight of his gaze on her nearly bare shoulders as she put a kettle on and pulled together tea.

###

Four nights later, Hermione slipped from her room again, scrubbing at her eyes with real exhaustion, but unable to sleep from sheer excitement. 

Four nights in a row, she'd shared tea in the wee hours with Sirius. Four nights now, he'd turned his chair backwards and sat grinning as she poured and spoken to her like a proper adult friend, sharing tales of his youth and philosophizing on the state of wizarding society; skirting topics such as Azkaban or life on the run, but doing so without condescension or fear; listening to her and Ron and Harry's exploits and laughing in all the right places.

He was smart, witty, sophisticated, but a little dirty around the edges; funny with a dark, sarcastic edge. It seemed like turning back time for him; he smiled, he joked; he looked infinitely less haunted than he did during the day. In short, everything she'd dreamed; exactly one hundred percent more than she'd expected. 

The situation was hopeless. There was no backing out now. Every time he threw his head back and laughed; every time he touched her arm lightly to punctuate a story; every time he caught her gaze and held it, she was convinced her plan was working. What the remainder of the plan was, she wasn't sure, but it was surely working so far.

No one noticed her dark circles in the daylight hours or that he was now 'Sirius' instead of 'Mr. Black', and she was now ''Mione' and not 'bloody hell, Ron, my name is HER-MY-O-KNEE. Get it right.'

Grinning as Padfoot greeted her entry into the kitchen, she reached over and scratched behind his ear absently before making her way to the cupboards.

"That friendly now, are we?" Asked a fully-transformed Sirius. "Perhaps you should scratch the other, too, while you're at it?"

Hermione guffawed, turning and gesturing with the teacup in a fair impersonation of Mrs. Weasley. "Act like a dog and be treated like one."

Immediately horrified at her own tone, Hermione flushed and opened her mouth to stammer an apology. And then Sirius was laughing, harder even than she'd ever seen; an infectious chuckle that turned her mumbled 'sorry' into matching giggles that took the better part of half an hour to fully stop.

### 

Hermione had no idea where to go next, but was flushed with victory over the ease with which she had managed to get closer to Sirius.

Though for the most part otherwise unchanged to most other inhabitants of the house during the day, smiling in her sleep was becoming second nature. Until the hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake scant hours after having gone to bed a second time.

"Bloody hell Hermione, you have GOT to tell me. I don't care if I DO end up with information that could potentially damn me as well, I just need to know who you're snogging in the middle of the bloody night. Please? PLEASE?"

Ginny. Hovering over her bed. At... Six bleeding AM. "G'way," mumbled Hermione into the pillow once she'd sneaked a look at the time.

"Hermione. **HERMIONE** I've tried, but I can't figure this out alone. Spill for Merlinsake!!"

Hermione's ensuing sibilant whisper rendered Ginny temporarily speechless. Time enough to slip back into the sweet oblivion of sleep...

"SWEET CIRCE, HERMIONE, WHAT?!"

Panic gripped Hermione as she realized what she had just admitted to Ginny. Sitting quickly, she grabbed onto Ginny's forearms, whispering as best she could through her gritted teeth, "Gin, listen..." 

In a barely restrained whisper, Ginny nearly screeched, "Sirius, as in Sirius Black? As in the **adult** in whose house we are currently living?! That Sirius?"

Squeezing, Hermione's voice was edged with panic as she pleaded, "Gin, please! You won't tell, will you?"

"Yeah. No. Just give me a minute." Ginny continued to gape at Hermione; the gears in her head visibly churning. After a moment, she licked her lips and half-smiled. "Alright, so you have been crawling out of bed to have midnight tea parties with Sirius Black, because _he's_ the one you've fallen desperately in love with, not Ron OR Harry, is that correct?"

"Well, I wouldn't say _desperately_..."

"Crumpled on the rug is desperate. Yes or No?"

"Y... Yes."

"Brilliant. Is he a good kisser?"

"GINNY! I wouldn't know. It's just tea."

"Oh, don't play dumb with me. It's just tea **Now**. And now that I'm implicated in this madness you had better let me know when that changes."

" **If** it changes."

" **When** it changes. You're scary, Hermione. You know that. Fifteen or thirty-five, he still doesn't stand a chance."

"...You really think it's brilliant?"

###

The night before Harry's hearing before the Wizengamot, Sirius somehow ended up sitting in the chair next to Hermione instead of their usual 45 degree conducive-to-conversation positions. There was a short awkward silence before Hermione noticed the worry and sadness too near the surface of Sirius' usual 'tea time' expression. The business with Harry was obviously wearing on him, as it was on everyone, but the thought of Dementors near Harry had obviously affected Sirius more than anyone else.

She scooted her chair closer and rested her head on his shoulder, reveling in his nearness; in the distinctive scent of soap and linen and long disuse. His arm came up and around her and they sat for over an hour in silence, tea slowly growing cold in neglected cups.

###

The night after what had turned out to be a trial, Hermione burst into the kitchen, practically bouncing with glee. 

"Can you believe it? Sirius, it's brilliant!"

More sullen than the night before, Sirius slumped further in his chair, no longer even attempting to put forth a grin or a handshake. He continued to stare silently at the back door.

"Sirius? It's a good thing, right?"

Acidly, he answered, "Oh. Yeah. Wonderful." Shoving his chair back from the table he stood and made to push past Hermione. "You know, I think I'm very tired. I think I'll be turning in."

Hermione stepped into his path, ablaze with righteous indignation. "No way, Sirius. You cannot truly tell me that you _wanted_ Harry to be expelled from school? That's, that's--"

His eyes bored into her, answer a low snarl, "Don't be ridiculous Hermione. I'm tired."

"Bollocks." 

"Get out of my way."

"No. You're a selfish prat! I can't believe you'd actually have Harry rot here than back at school where he belongs. It's disgusting!"

Sirius grabbed her by the shoulders and snarled close to her face, "You have no bloody idea what it is I'd have, and no fucking clue what I'm thinking, and no tea will fix it." Nearly lifting Hermione off of the ground, he turned and set her aside before storming out of the kitchen, allowing the door to slam behind him. 

Hermione stood rooted where he'd left her just long enough for a tears to begin spilling onto her cheek. She ran back up to her room, brushing past Sirius at the foot of the stairs as Mrs. Black began screaming and was in bed long before she heard the other inhabitants of the house began stirring and cursing the portrait.

Trying not to sniffle, she rolled to face the wall, covering her face with the quilt. A warm weight settled onto the bed behind her and Ginny's freckled arm slid around Hermione's waist. Ginny comforted her in her softest voice, "Shh. You don't have to tell me what happened. Just sleep."

###

Hermione spent the better part of the next day de-molding the wardrobe with Harry and Ron, trying her best to not act on her foul mood. Finally failing miserably, she had exploded on Harry; telling him that Sirius had wanted him expelled; that Sirius was confusing him with his father. 

Curled in her bed that night, she shut off her silent alarm and drifted off into sleep, doing her best to forget the shock on Ron's face and the pain in Harry's eyes as she'd cut him with her accusations.

At a quarter to four am, a faint scratching at the door woke Hermione, whose body accustomed to being awake at this hour was already hovering at the edge of consciousness. 

Opening the door carefully, she crouched low to pick up the teacup that had been left in the doorway; a note tucked into the handle that simply read, "I'm sorry."

Hesitating briefly, she stepped back from the door set the cup on her nightstand, climbing back into bed and trying futilely to return to sleep.

###

Following was a particularly dark night, as the air hung heavy with an unshed thunderstorm, Hermione came down to find the teapot already on the burner; Sirius standing at the back door holding open the curtain covering the window just enough to watch the gathering storm.

Hermione moved to stand next to him, reaching out to tentatively touch the rough knuckles braced against the doorframe. "It's beautiful."

Without taking his eyes from window, Sirius answered, "I never thought I'd see any of it again. And I knew I'd deserved it."

His voice scraped and caught, and Hermione was torn between fierce anger and a deep and crushing sadness for what he'd been through; overcome with the need to keep him from further harm, as ridiculous as it seemed. Tracing an archaic symbol for Hell on the knuckle of his left index finger, she sought his eyes. 

"No."

She tightened her hand over his and after another moment pried it from the doorframe, tugging him away from the door.

###

Harry stumbled into the kitchen after yet another botched attempt to sleep without horrific nightmares, glasses askew and hair more wild than usual to find Sirius telling tales of a particularly amusing Marauders exploit, Hermione smiling and laughing.

Blinking, he took the scene in for a moment before Sirius patted the chair opposite Hermione. "Welcome to the club, Harry. Tea?"

"Club?"

"Insomniacs of 12 Grimmauld Place. It's very prestigious. We'll have to test you for worthiness."

Standing Hermione giggled and bumped Sirius with her hip before moving on to retrieve another cup. "And exactly how do we plan to do that? It's not such a hard thing, to be an insomniac in this place."

"Too true, I'm afraid. Welcome, then, Harry!"

Harry raised an eyebrow as Hermione poured, but was still too disoriented to be articulate about suddenly feeling like a third wheel with no good reason.

###

"Psssst. Hermione?"

"G'way Ginny. Don' wanna talk. 'M sleeping. 'S no snogging yet. Gotta be up for tea in a bit..."

"Hermione! Something's up! Don't know if there'll be tea today, dear."

Raised voices from downstairs filtered into Hermione's hearing and she shook sleep off to join Ginny at the door. It was Sirius and Mrs. Black; the dueling shrieks and shouts escalating steadily. The girls crept out of their room to the head of the stairs and watched as he smashed a bottle against the painting, the woman cowering, but still spewing her vicious tirade. The vapors drifting up from the dripping painting told of firewhisky, and Hermione bit her lip, realizing distantly that Ginny was right.

A hand descended on Ginny's shoulder, and Arthur fixed both girls with a look that brooked no argument. "Go back to bed, girls. We'll handle this."

Once back in the safety of their room, Ginny flopped heavily onto her bed, rolling onto her side to watch as Hermione shut off the alarm. "Well! You sure know how to pick 'em."

Hermione glared at her for only a second before sliding into her bed to lay wide awake for what seemed like an eternity.

###

Ginny stretched on her bed, tossing aside her Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four and turning to face Hermione. Nonchalant, as if asking for a spare quill, she asked, "So. Still no snogging?"

Scandalized, Hermione nearly threw her inkpot at the grinning redhead so desperately asking to be hexed.

Still grinning, Ginny asked, "What? Jeez." 

Hermione shook her head, almost smiling back, and returned to her essay.

###

Three days until the start of fall term, Hermione began to despair of missing her nightly ritual. Counting to twenty was completely unnecessary, but it helped remind her to breathe.

Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. 

Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineteneleventwelvethirteenfourteenfifteensixteenseventeeneighteennineteentwenty

Shift. Click. Step step step.

"Hullo Sirius! The usual?"

"Come on 'Mione. 'M not here for the service. Chop chop!"

He was still the only person on the face of the Earth allowed to call her 'Mione. And no one else knew. Hermione felt a little nauseous every time it escaped his lips, and loved it.

"What are you going to do while I'm at school? Certainly you'll have to make your own tea?"

Sirius' cheerful expression wavered a bit. "Don't rightly know." Hesitating slightly before continuing, he reached out and took hold of her forearm, "Know I'll miss you, though." 

Fixing Sirius with her most dissecting gaze, Hermione examined his expression in hopes of detecting his true meaning. She had intended to smile shyly and mumble something endearing, but what she found written clearly on his face changed the words even as they left her tongue. Meeting the dark eyes that had haunted her dreams for so long, she finally spoke in a tone most unsuited to a teenage girl. "Yeah you will. Almost as much as I'll miss you."

They finished their tea in silence. There seemed nothing more to add.

###

Hermione slipped from her room on the last night of the summer in Grimmauld Place, gasping as she caught sight of the two enormous glowing eyes standing just outside her door.

In a hissing whisper, she scolded, "Padfoot!"

The giant dog shifted shape and a grinning Sirius held out his hand. "Come on now, 'Mione. After a month of prowling about this house in the dead of night, a little dog scares you?"

Taking his hand and trying not to shake, Hermione smirked. "Little? Right. Try 'great, barking beast'." Smiling, she made for the stairs but was pulled back by the hand holding hers.

"Shhh... Wait. They're all down there brooding. Besides, I have something special for you." Sirius pulled in the opposing direction, heading down the corridor and up the far stairs.

Heart banging wildly against her ribs, Hermione followed, whispering, "Special? Whatever for?"

Sirius cocked an eyebrow over his shoulder and then surprisingly, ducked his head and grinned, a gesture both sweet and unsure. "I, erm... I wanted to... thank you for your company. And to let you know that you'll be missed..."

He led her quietly to the topmost floor and into the recently-cleared Conservatory, crossing directly to the where a small table had been set near the tall window. Filling the table were wineglasses and a plate of chocolate biscuits and berries; the battered window seat appeared newly upholstered, scattered cushions clean and new.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up as she took it in; caught between scandalized and overjoyed, she jumped when Sirius addressed her.

"Hermione? Alright there? I mean, I know it's hardly appropriate, but I thought you could use a suitable sendoff." Sirius looked worried, his eyes beginning to dart back and forth as he dropped her hand. "I can transfigure it back? We could always go back downstairs...?"

"NO! I mean, no, it's lovely. I was just surprised."

They stood facing each other and still not speaking or sitting for a moment longer; Hermione well aware of the sheer idiocy of having an awkward teenage moment with a man twenty years her senior, and still reeling in disbelief over her good fortune.

"Shall we sit?"

"What did I tell you about the obedient dog tricks?"

Hermione laughed a small, nervous laugh. "Right. Sorry." Choosing a spot near the table, she sat with one leg curled underneath her. "Hold on," she murmured, pulling her wand with a start and pointing it at the door. "Colloportus." Catching Sirius' unspoken question, she explained quickly. "I just... I'm fine with it, but we don't want anyone getting the wrong idea. I'd rather not be told off by Mrs. Weasley if I can avoid it." Smirking, she added, "And it's not as if the Ministry'll catch me doing unauthorized magic here, is it?"

Shaking his head, Sirius grinned again, and began pouring wine. "I'm grateful that you were here. You... well. You kept me more sane than I might have otherwise been. I know that's not saying much, but it is what it is, I suppose." Offering Hermione a glass, he held out his own without much of a smile. "Cheers."

"I'm going to worry about you, you know. And I _will_ miss this, just being here... but I suspect that studying for OWLs will keep me occupied..." Hermione answered, trailing off helplessly as her hand crept closer to Sirius.

Sirius allowed himself a short bark of laughter. "Oh yes, I can see why you'd miss it here. Charming surroundings, relaxing pastimes--"

Heart hammering wildly, Hermione couldn't take one more moment without saying it. "I won't miss it. I'll miss _you_." Dropping her eyes momentarily, she took a deep breath and finally closed the gap between her hand and his lacing her fingers through his. "You. Sirius."

Watching her as if he was about to speak, his eyes fixed on her for a moment before looking away. "Hermione..."

Interrupting again, Hermione began speaking quickly, feeling as though this might be her last chance to get it all out. "I know. It's stupid, but I didn't want to ruin everything; I just... I thought you should know. I orchestrated this... whatever this is. I set an alarm to wake me up so I could pretend to be an insomniac, just so that I could spend time with you; I-- I needed to say it before we left; before I--"

Sirius pressed a finger to her lips. "Stop. I know." Without another word, he leaned in and kissed her gently. Hermione's eyes flew open as a moment of fear and clarity washed through her. As he began to pull away, she realized this was in fact her only chance, and took it. Using her unentangled hand, she pulled Sirius back to her, pressing up to make contact again, parting her lips slightly as they made contact with his. Neither surprised nor pulling away his tongue slipped into her mouth and she felt as if she would die; a messy, horrible death by implosion. More likely combustion, given that her body temperature seemed to have risen to an all-consuming fever pitch.

Bringing his free arm around to grasp her hip, Sirius broke the kiss, gasping, "I-- we shouldn't. **I** shouldn't..."

Hermione could see the indecision warring with heat and guilt and her thoughts tumbled over one another as to how to proceed; what to do to make him see. Releasing his hand, she unfastened the top button of her pajama top as she spoke again. "Sirius. I'm old enough. I know what you want. I want you and I know you want me too."

It was unpracticed, she thought, and a little clumsy, not to mention cruel, but a true statement nonetheless. Obvious enough from the hand that had not left her hip; bottomless eyes that refused to meet her gaze; his breathing now coming faster and heavier than before. Intoxicated by her power over him, she unbuttoned again to reveal a pale swell of flesh.

As he mumbled something she could not or did not want to make out, she used one final burst of courage to rise to her knees on the window seat and straddle his lap, pressing herself against him as fully as possible. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, her cheek to his, she had intended to say something convincing but the feel of his erection pressing up between her spread legs even through their layers of clothing was far too much to bear. Instinctively, she moved her hips slightly and whimpered as Sirius took hold of her arse and pulled her down against him with a groan, eyes sliding shut. "H--"

His fingers buried in her flesh sent a primal thrill racing through her body and she knew it would only take one more word; one more sweetly-voiced indecency. When Sirius opened his mouth to breathe her name, she kissed him again, sliding her fingers into his hair. "Please Sirius, you need this as much as I do. I know it."

Obviously past argument, Sirius kissed her, moving his hands up her body to touch her breasts, shoving the half-buttoned top from her shoulders to make contact with warm flesh. Hermione gasped as his thumb brushed her hard nipple, arching into his touch and gasping again as their hips ground together; second-hand trousers, thin pyjamas and damp knickers doing nothing to hide the effect she had on him.

Apruptly pulling his hand from her, Sirius produced his wand and murmured a silencing spell before tossing it aside completely. Grinning wickedly, he slid her top from her shoulders to reveal her slender shoulders and firm breasts. Placing a finger against her cheek, he slid it down her face and throat; down her sternum to rest his splayed hand across her taut belly. "You're just perfect," he whispered, claiming her lips in a greedy kiss that knocked her breath in its entirety from her body.

Hermione moved her hips again in that sinuous motion, completely abandoning all sense of shame and propriety. There was nothing left but his hands, again running the length of her hips and thighs; his mouth rough against hers, and then pressed to her neck, unheeding of where the marks might be left behind in his quest to devour her whole.

Running her own hands along his shoulders and chest and wherever she could reach, Hermione pressed her lips to his ear, taking hold of his earlobe with her teeth. "More. I can take it."

He didn't bother asking. Growling low in his throat, Sirius scratched slightly at her skin as he slid his handinto her pyjamas, going straight for her wet center. Hermione cried out against his mouth as his fingers made contact with her clit, whimpering constantly as he began to move them in small circles. He dropped his mouth to her collarbone before bending as far as he could to take her nipple into his mouth, smiling against her skin as her hands clutched tight around his shoulders, jagged breaths erratic as she gasped his name. 

Releasing her breast, Sirius lifted his gaze slightly, eyes sparkling. "Alright there, 'Mione?"

Hermione pressed her forehead to his shoulder. "Oh God. yes. Please, don't stop. More. Just... more."

Chuckling softly, Sirius slid his fingers down the length of her swollen lips, dipping them deep before coming back to circle her clit. Nearly screaming as he repeated the motion, Hermione dug her fingernails into his flesh. Sirius smirked as he kissed her again. "How about now?"

Her only reply was to press her open mouth to his neck as she began to shake and whimper; waves of bright pleasure rolling over her as she collapsed onto him. A startled cry followed as he moved again before finally gathering her fully to his chest and stroking her back whispering, "Beautiful. Gods, you're beautiful."

Leaning against him, Hermione shut her eyes trying to catch her breath. Finally feeling able to form a coherent sentence, she smiled and whispered, "That was... Sirius I lo--."

"Shh." Again, he stopped her with his fingers, this time sliding them into her mouth so that she could taste herself still on his skin. 

Driven again, Hermione slid her hands down his chest, stopping at his waist and biting her lip. "I... I want to. Show me how?"

Sirius struggled to unfasten his trousers, and Hermione moved off of his lap, coming to the ground on her knees between his instead. As his trousers fell open, Hermione caught sight of his cock, reaching out to touch it and finding it softer than she'd expected; velvety under her fingers as she ran her hand along its length, rewarded by a protracted hiss from Sirius, whose eyes had drifted shut as he closed his hand over her smaller one. Overcome with the impulse to take him into her mouth, she bent to lick the the head, still stroking it with his guidance.

"Bloody fuck," he groaned, gritting his teeth as Hermione closed her lips around him, unsure of how to proceed, but finding the sounds he made utterly addictive. Sucking experimentally, she could taste the salty precome, could feel him twitch against her as she tried to duplicate with her tongue what he had done with his fingers. 

A hand tangled in her hair and pulled her closer as he thrust into her mouth, his head lolling back against the window, mumbling, "Christ yes, Hermione..." 

"Sirius, you up here?"

Sitting up abruptly, eyes wide, Sirius held onto Hermione's shoulders as her confusion gave way to fear. 

A door down the hall opened and shut before the footsteps outside grew louder. The Conservatory door rattled slightly as someone tested the doorknob. 

"Sirius? If you're in there, we need you. Moody just brought in some new information, and since no one's sleeping, we're discussing it now. If you're up to it. I suppose..."

Remus Lupin's footsteps receded down the hallway as Hermione's heart struggled to begin beating again. Still gasping, Sirius pulled his trousers shut, staring at the door with what appeared to be a mix of horror and regret. 

Tears welled in Hermione's eyes as she groped for her top; her arms finally captured by Sirius, who moved to kneel on the ground beside her. "Hey. It's alright. _Are_ you alright?" 

Nodding and clinging to him tightly, Hermione tried desperately to stop the tears from falling.

Folding her in his arms, Sirius said, "Hermione. Listen. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have... I mean, I should have..." 

Hermione raised her eyes to his and he stopped speaking, instead kissing her again slowly, thoroughly without hesitation. "You _are_ beautiful. Thank you."

It was all she could do to kiss back, to not melt and resume her crying. But she knew what he was trying to say, and it would have to be enough.

Swiping at her eyes, she smiled as he helped her find her top and get it buttoned, still trying to smile as he cast several cleansing charms on both of them and transfiguring the corner back to its previous state. 

Creeping to the door, Sirius ended the locking and silencing charms, and hazarded a look out into the deserted hallway. With a final kiss, he opened the door fully and escorted her down to her room as quickly as possible, squeezing her hand once before running down the stairs and entering the kitchen, sullenly declaring, "So, What did I miss?" 

###

Hermione stepped dazed into her room, knowing that she had no hope of sneaking in any sleep before Mrs. Weasley's enthusiastic wake up call. As she eased the door shut behind her, Ginny's bedside lamp clicked on. 

"It's nearly daylight, Hermione, that was the bloody longest tea I've ever..." the thought trailed off as they made eye contact and Ginny sprung from her bed and rushed to cross the room and grab Hermione by the shoulders. "Oh Gods! Hermione, what did you do?!" 

Exhausted and shaken, Hermione shoved her off fairly snarling, "Sod off Ginny, it's not always your business!"

Undeterred, Ginny set her jaw. "Yes, it certainly is. I'm your emotional backer in this venture, remember? And-- sweet Circe-- are those **love bites**?!"

Hermione yanked herself free of Ginny's grip and sank down onto her bed, fumbling to pull her top closer around her. She struggled not to hit Ginny as she crawled up onto the bed next to her.

"That's brilliant! Hermione, what happened? Who kissed who? How? Just -- start from the beginning and go slowly through the snogging. We've got time."

Biting her lip, Hermione struggled with the weight of the night's events. She'd wanted to hold it close and not tell a soul, but the overwhelming newness and excitement made the news impossible to keep. Taking a deep breath, she said quickly, "He did. I mean he kissed me, but I made him. In the Conservatory, because everyone else is awake and in the kitchen. I locked the door and sat in his lap and then everything went pear-shaped and suddenly there was mad snogging and I wasn't wearing a shirt and he bloody well _touched_ me Gin, and I thought I was going to die, and just as I was about to... well. Professor Lupin came to the hallway and called for him and I cried like a ridiculous child, and there was more snogging and now here I am and Oh my God. Gin, it was everything... Ginny?" 

Ginny sat staring open-mouthed throughout Hermione's tale, finally reacting to her name with a lame, "Hermione, what?"

Matter-of-factly, Hermione answered, "I nearly shagged him, Gin. And would have if it hadn't been for bloody Order business."

Eyes still comically wide, Ginny pressed a hand to her mouth. "I had no idea... I mean really, I..." A mad giggle escaped through her fingers, before she asked incredulous, "Hermione, oh my God-- is he... dunno, your _boyfriend_ or something?" 

"NO. I--no. I don't know what he is." Staring into space, her voice seemed as if it came from some far away place. "But I do know that for someone so bloody clever, this was likely the stupidest thing I've ever done."

Struggling for composure, Ginny asked seriously, "Are you sorry, then?"

With a rueful smile, Hermione answered, "No. Not one little bit."

Still biting back hysterical laughter borne of complete disbelief, Ginny managed to mutter, "Holy Merlin on a motorcycle. It's going to be a long school year."

###

Hermione downed a double dose of Pepper Up a few short hours later. She had Prefect's duty to attend to on the train, after all. 

She had shaken Sirius' hand before leaving the house, carefully staying away from Padfoot as he leapt and chased and generally acted the fool for Harry's benefit, though it was one of the hardest things she'd ever done.

###

A little over two weeks into the term, Hermione received her birthday gifts in the morning post. She nearly knocked her porridge onto Ron at the sight of the familiar handwriting on a small rectangular box. The note attached read:

    16 September 

    
    Dear Hermione, 

    
    Happy Birthday! We thought you might enjoy these.  

    Here's to many more.

    
    Regards,  

    Snuffles

    Attached was a box of teas from around the world. Added in text charmed visible only to her there was a small footnote:

    
    As you can see, your presence is sorely missed. I  

    hope you can forgive an old fool for taking advantage  

    of a beautiful young woman's attentions. I'm sorry.

    Biting her lip again, she opened the rest of her gifts. After breakfast, she ran to Gryffindor Tower on the pretense of dropping off her gifts, stopping to scrawl a response, heavily charmed to appear to be an innocuous Thank-You note.

    ###

    
    S.- 

    
    Thank you. They're lovely. Prefect.

    
    Nonsense. You took nothing I did not wish to give.  

    I look forward to teatime again, whenever it may be.

    
    H.

    One minute after Sirius read the note, the text dissolved completely.

    ###

    A final response came after dinner. Hermione read it through once before it too disappeared: 

    
    H.-  

    or should I say, 'M.-

    
    I'm glad you liked them.

    
    S.

    ###

    There were no more owls exchanged during the term. More than one kind of message was too dangerous for that.

    ###

    It was wrong of Hermione to feel what she felt, that much was certain. And it was just as wrong to nurture the spark of hope lingering as she left Hogwarts for the winter holiday.

    The news about Ron's dad and the attack had been severe enough to allow her to escape the family ski holiday; and she truly was frightened for him. For the entire Weasley clan, truth be told.

    But in her secret heart, she was overjoyed. 12 Grimmauld Place meant back to 2AM tea. Back to Sirius. 

    It was all she could do to greet him civilly. To shake his hand and murmur pleasantries; to smile sadly as she hugged each Weasley in turn, whispering encouragement and love. She'd locked herself away with Ginny for a bit, had talked sense into Harry as best she could, avoided his eyes during dinner.

    But as she watched the wee hours creep along from underneath her quilt, her heart began racing wildly, fingers twisting the fringe to a frayed mess.

    Shortly after two AM, she rose from her bed, padding to the door to look briefly out into the hallway.

    "Good luck, Hermione. And for Circe's sake, be careful," whispered Ginny from her bed.

    Speechless, Hermione nodded and forced herself to step out of the room, and then forced herself to shut the door silently and not fly down the stairs and into the kitchen at a dead run.

    ###

    Immediately upon entering the small kitchen, Hermione caught his eyes on her from where he leaned on the table, staring in the direction of the door. Before he could speak, she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck, relaxing only slightly as he tightened his arms around her. Sniffling, she whispered against his chest, "Sirius-- it's terrible about Mr. Weasley, and all I could think about was that I couldn't have come up with a better excuse to come here and see you..."

    Pressing his cheek to her hair, Sirius said wryly, "Hermione, I'm the one that was upset his godson didn't get expelled. You'll find no harsh judgment here."

    Turning her head to meet his gaze finally, she hazarded a small smile. Sirius wiped the tears from her cheek, bending to kiss her without warning. Hermione's fingers clenched reflexively in his shirt, heart hammering wildly again as if for the first time in five months.

    Pulling away, Hermione arched an eyebrow. "This is familiar, don't you think?" 

    Answering . "Yes, I'm afraid so."

    Breaking eye contact, suddenly shy again, Hermione whispered, "Can we start where we left off?"

    Sirius placed a gentle hand on Hermione's chin, speaking in his most grave tone. "Is that what you want?"

    Finding herself incapable of audible speech, Hermione nodded fervently and held tightly to him, waiting for the inevitable speech about responsibility and difference in age and every other argument against what they'd done. What she still wanted. Feeling him gather his breath, she shut her eyes.

    "Then I'd say we'd better be very quiet on the way to the Conservatory at this time of night, wouldn't you agree?"

    Hermione exhaled hard, but was kept from agreeing by another indescribable kiss, before being led quietly, furtively into the stairwell and to the top floor of 12 Grimmauld Place.


End file.
